


Blessed in a Swirling Universe

by tanzertime



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: But it's warm and soft don't worry, Drinking, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 22:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanzertime/pseuds/tanzertime
Summary: Ford invites Arthur out drinking, and tells him a very silly story about aliens or something.





	Blessed in a Swirling Universe

“There you are!” Ford shouted above the din of the bar, lifting his stein to the man who was pulling off his dripping wet coat and matching his smile.

“Here I am,” Arthur replied, settling into the stool. “Good to see you’re alive. From the way you were talking, I thought you’d just been mugged.”

“Well, If I don’t sound urgent, you won’t leave the house,” Ford chided with a playful nudge. He turned to the bartender and held out a five pound bill. “Two more.”

“You’re feeling generous,” Arthur noted as two steins were set next to their bowl of peanuts. “What’s the occasion?”

“If you must know,” Ford said, draining the last of his first drink, “I’m celebrating an anniversary of sorts.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hm,” Ford hummed as he cracked into a peanut with his teeth. 

“...Well, of what?” Arthur asked, taking a peanut of his own. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ford returned with haughty confidence. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Arthur said, half amused. “You’re in this mood.”

“What mood?”

“You know,” Arthur said, gesturing to the other man. “Saying weird things, trying to act all odd and mysterious. You been drinking long?”

“Oh, you think that’s it, then?” Ford returned, leaning in. “Think I’m just saying shit?”

“You’re always saying shit,” Arthur reposted, finally taking a drink from his beer. “Next round on me, alright?”

“So you don’t want to know what the anniversary is?” Ford asked with a carnivorous smile. 

“Fine, fine,” Arthur chuckled with a shake of the head. “Tell me.”

“Tonight,” Ford Prefect announced, drawing himself up tall in his seat, “Is exactly one year from the day that I was face-to-face with invaders from another world!”

Arthur sat back in his stool and gave Ford a very, very,  _ very  _ incredulous look. “Ford.”

“What, you don’t believe me?” Ford returned, propping his chin up on his palm. “You’re the one who asked.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away from the other man, eyes still trailing on him, seemingly cognisant of how close Ford was leaning, but saying nothing about it. 

“You’re telling me you don’t want to hear the story?”

“Are you high?” Arthur asked with an edge of genuine concern. 

“Come on,” Ford goaded, tipping in so close that the feet of his stool slowly began to lift away. “Ask to hear the story.”

Arthur laughed into his drink and turned back to Ford, who at this point was nearly nose-to-nose with him. “If I do, will you stop tottering around on your stool like a toddler?”

The feet of the stool hit the ground with a hollow thud. 

Arthur sighed, rolled his eyes, and laughed. This was usually what he did around Ford, usually in that order. “Alright, Ford. Go ahead. Tell me about your encounter with aliens.”

“Well, if you must ask,” Ford chirped, drawing himself up, “It was a night just like this. Except, it wasn’t raining.”

“So not a night like this.”

“Shut up. There must have been some kind of match or something, because, as I’m walking home from the bars, there’s this bang, and I turn around, thinking someone’s been shot. Then I see it --” Ford paused, starting to lean back in already. 

“...The alien?”

“No, don’t be stupid,” Ford said, taking a big swig of his beer. “It was fireworks.”

“Right, right.” Arthur sighed. “Why would I assume it was aliens?”

“Yeah, clearly I’m not there yet. Let me finish,” Ford chidded. 

“So, I stop to watch the fireworks, right? Real gorgeous. But suddenly, I see something shoot off from them. Like, you know when they’re traveling up, right, and there’s that little, kind of… like a pod, almost.” he waited for Arthur to nod, then launched back in. “So I see one of them traveling up, then, and it’s the oddest thing, but it  _ turns.  _ Really! 90 degrees, and shoots off without exploding!” He settled back, taking a sip of his beer. “So, naturally, I followed it.”

“Naturally,” Arthur sighed, finishing off his beer. He turned to the bartender and fished out a few bills. “Two more.”

“I take off in the streets, just trying to stay within a mile of this thing. I stop on the edge of the town, you know the spot, with that little stretch of trees about a mile from here?”

Arthur hummed, sliding him his stein. 

“So finally, I hear this big explosion. Don’t know how it didn’t get attention from anyone else, it was real bloody loud.”

“Well, people usually don’t hear things that don’t happen,” Arthur muttered into his beer. 

Ford playfully smacked him upside the head. “Just listen to the story, yeah?”

“You’ve got two pints you’ve barely started,” Arthur reminded him, feeling a little warm. The bar was fairly quiet tonight -- no match on, nobody felt like going out in the rain, it all felt… intimate, if he had to call it that. Arthur set his elbow on the bar and propped his cheek on his hand, looking at Ford with eyes half-lidded, giving in to the fact that he was going to listen to a very stupid story.

“And so I rush in, right?” Ford finally continued after a massive swig of his beer. “I kinda fight through a bramble, you know --” he mimed brushing brambles off with far too much enthusiasm. “And I’m pushing through the trees --” he mimed again, Arthur nearly choking on his drink at how stupid he looked. 

“Ford, people are going to start staring --”

“And finally, I come up on it!” He slammed his stein down for emphasis, which he achieved. “There it is, in the middle of the clearing, glowing all blue and green and such. And the lid of it pops open, and out she crawls.” Ford leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. “A little green alien, just like in those shitty movies that play real late at night.”

“I can’t believe it,” Arthur said, completely flat.

“Laugh at me all you want,” Ford sniped, taking a little sip of his beer, still staying close. “But I tell you, it happened.”

“I’m sure,” Arthur teased, blaming the heat rising in his chest on his second glass of beer. 

“She climbs out, coughing,” he mimed again, earning himself an eye-roll. “She clambers over to me, and grabs the hem of my coat --” he grabbed Arthur’s tie in lieu of a hem. “And she says, in this wheedling little voice,  _ oh, Earthman! _ ” he practically squealed, getting a full laugh from Arthur.

“What on Earth was that?” Arthur asked, pretending that the hand on his tie wasn’t bringing a pink tint to his cheeks.

“Nothing from Earth,” Ford returned, twisting the little length of fabric between his fingers as a man guides a snake. “She says, ‘Oh, Earthman, you must hear my tale!’” he squealed again, leaning back on the bar with a hand on his forehead and the waifish charm of a southern belle, “‘I have traveled from many light years away to seek respite on your planet! Hear my tale, Earthman, I beg of you!’”

“Jesus, Jesus, Ford…” Arthur chuckled, hand creeping up and landing on Ford’s. He made the limpest attempt at freeing the other’s fingers from where they intertwined with his tie. He ended up with hand loosely entangled with Ford’s, and pretended to ignore it. That warmth kept rising in his chest, rooted in his gut, with the weak excuse of alcohol to call its’ home.

“She explains all this shite, right,” Ford continued, energy tapering off towards a sleepy drawl. “‘Oh, we were a peaceful people, and these horrible critters showed up, turned the day to night, etcetera.” He sipped his beer and offered a smile, wide and carnivorous. “‘But,’ she says, ‘wherever shall I stay on this strange planet, as I signal to my people so they may escape their horrid prison?’” With that, Ford settled in very close, tangling his fingers further in Arthur’s tie. Arthur felt his chest tighten, outside of his control, his throat quickly following its’ lead. Heat shot through him, and his face dusted red, hardly hidden in the warm light of the bar. Ford smiled, eyes flicking down to watch the other man’s adam's apple jump. “And I said, ‘Well, baby, how about my apartment?’”

Arthur, after taking a few seconds to process what had just been said, finally laughed, giving Ford a little shove on the shoulder. “You bloody idiot. You’re a goddamn weirdo, you know that?”

Ford pulled back, looking very proud of himself. “Had you going for a bit,” he remarked as his fingers fell away from the tie.

“Not for a second. That’s -- that’s not even a punchline, Ford. You just said you fucked the alien, it’s not --”

“Pish,” Ford remarked, dismissing his complaints with a wave of the hand. He drained his drink and turned to Arthur with that same hungry grin. “Made you laugh, that means it’s a joke.” Ford dug around in the pocket of his canvas coat and fished out a crumpled bill and a few coins, which he unceremoniously plunked on the bar before hopping to his feet. “Well, I’m headed out.”

Arthur blinked in disbelief. “Wh -- Ford, we just got here, what on Earth --”

Ford shrugged. “I dunno, just got a wild hair, now I’m done with it.”

“You really invited me out to tell some stupid story?” he asked, incredulous.

“...Yeah, I guess.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed. “Ford Prefect… why,” he asked, looking up, now more amused then anything. “Why in God’s name did you do this?”

Ford’s smile wavered as he watched Arthur finish his beer and pull on his coat, sliding off of the stool and stepping up besides him. Arthur was a good few inches taller than him, and Ford often found himself casting his eyes up when talking to the earthman. 

“Well?”

Ford, uncommonly, blinked. Arthur was looking down at him, still a little flushed, bemusement spattered about his face in a cocked eyebrow and a tiny smile. He felt a little warmth in his own face, remembering how bold he’d been moments before, and he’d be damned if his stomach didn’t twist a bit. 

“Dunno,” he said after a long moment. “Guess I wanted to see how you’d react.”

“...Did you get what you were looking for?” Arthur asked after a beat.

Ford found himself smiling. A tiny one, without a trace of hunger. 

“Dunno,” the spaceman finally said, clapping his dear friend on the back. “But let’s get home, yeah?”

So they walked out into the rain, Ford’s hand lingering for just a moment too long on Arthur’s back before it dropped to his side. 

That little smile tipped up to the stars, and for the first time in a good long while, Ford Prefect didn’t mind the distance to Betelgeuse.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey im BACK! dont ask where i got the energy i dont know either  
> nyways the title and HEAVY HEAVY insp for this one comes from "Galaxies!" by the Weather Machine, one of my fave lil bands. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9MojSNEBFs  
> It's the first song on my predent playlist and very them. I always imagined Ford telling him this story in a bar, using it to test the waters, so like, shit! might as well! a lot of their stuff from the self titled is v good for them. And leviathans get lonely is good for zaphod nd trillian. but I digress. because im just saying bullshit  
> anyways the little stirrings in this tag have got me EXCITED hope we can rise out the ashes of this bitch ca-caw babey


End file.
